


Natural

by doctortrekkie



Series: Break Me Down and Build Me Up [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst?, Character Study, Feels, Garon isn't Gooron yet, Gen, I just really wanted to write some Fates y'all, In which Hinoka actually did make it to Nohr once, Leo is a perpetual #SaltySnickerdoodle, Leo is so dang fun to write, Pre-Canon, Sibling Bonding, barely, but it's okay there's a reason for that, ish?, kind of setting up for how I'm reswizzling Fates as a whole?, that's the divergence, we'll find out when I actually finish Awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-10 21:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17433911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctortrekkie/pseuds/doctortrekkie
Summary: There are a few things in life that Leo knows for certain. He will never live up to Xander. Camilla will dote without end. Nohr and Hoshido will never see eye to eye.Some things, while not so certain, aren’t exactly surprising. For one instance, the fact that an almost fifteen-year-old Corrin has never left the Northern Fortress is not altogether unexpected by this point. For another instance, Leo might’ve guessed beforehand that the true mastery of the divine tome Brynhildr was not going to come easily.But there are some things in life that Leo would have never seen coming.In which the second prince of Nohr learns to wield a divine tome, discovers uncomfortable truths, and must decide if “family” is what you make of it.(Takes place five years before the beginning of Fates; July 631)





	1. Stars Align

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leo grows daffodils.

_Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost, tell me, will the stars align? Will heaven step in, will it save us from our sin? Will it?_

 

“Big brother!”

The ringing greeting echoed down the stairway, as did the rumbling reply of “Little princess.”

For a moment, Leo paused at the bottom of the stairs—still out of view—and let his siblings’ words wash over him. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be the last to greet Corrin anyways, with the mere presence of Camilla and Elise being overbearing enough that Leo usually couldn’t get a word in edgewise until the atmosphere had settled a little.

“Camilla didn’t tell me you were coming!” Corrin cried, the words muffled in a way that said they’d probably been spoken against Xander’s chest.

“I’m afraid your sisters send their regrets this time,” the crown prince replied. “Though if we are timely, they hope to meet us here on the way back.” Answering Corrin’s unspoken question, he continued, “Father has heard rumors of a Hoshidan guerilla force crossing the border into the northern wastelands. We’re being sent to investigate said rumors.”

“All on your own?” Corrin asked—Leo could just about hear the frown in her voice. “I only saw four horses come in!”

“A squadron will meet with us in the morn,” Xander explained. “For now, we’ve our retainers with us.” He paused. “Well, Niles and Asmund.”

“Oh! How is Viola, then?” Corrin asked, referring to Xander’s second retainer.

“She’s well. They expect the little one by the end of summer.” A slightly bitter note came to his tone. “Asmund is pleased, of course, though it is… strange to not have them both.”

Unable to help himself, Leo let out a chuckle, taking the stairs two at a time as he strode into view. “Ah, yes, the great crown prince, reduced to one retainer like the rest of us mortals. It’s a wonder you survived the journey here.”

“Leo!” Corrin cried, all but launching herself at him and nearly overcoming the disapproving look Xander shot him at his acerbic wit.

“Hello, Corrin,” he said, nearly staggering backward as her full weight hit him. “Good gods, sister, if you plan on tackling me down the stairs then at least have the courtesy to do it when Elise is here. I do believe I need my _spine.”_

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, but her face quickly lit up again. “Oh! Right! Happy birthday! Camilla gave you your present, didn’t she? And how was the ceremony? Was it as stuffy as you thought? You made sure your collar was the right way ‘round, didn’t you?”

Primly, Leo replied, “Thank you kindly for the regards, yes I received your gift, the ceremony was indeed as boring as I predicted, and all of my clothes were the right side out, thank you.”

“Father has been saying he wishes to grant the rest of you second retainers as well,” Xander interjected, despite the fact the conversation had long since strayed to other topics.

“Father’s been saying that for a year,” Leo pointed out.

Corrin, meanwhile, refused to be deterred from the topic at hand. “Well? Where is it?”

Quirking a brow and knowing full well what she referred to, Leo nonetheless asked, “Where’s what?”

The princess huffed, crossing her arms and sticking her lower lip out in a pout. “You know what!”

“Do I?” Leo asked innocently.

“Leo, I wanna _see_ it!”

“See…?” Leo said thoughtfully, putting a hand to his chin. “Ah. Could you possibly mean the ancient tome that has been officially granted to me on the occasion of my fourteenth birthday?”

“No,” Corrin replied flatly. “I mean your toothbrush.” With an impish grin, she shoved at his shoulder. “Of course I mean Brynhildr, you goof!”

“Speak to your favorite little brother like that and maybe I won’t,” Leo said with a haughty lift of his chin, though he was already reaching for the satchel slung across his chest.

“You’re my only little brother,” Corrin said, then continued in a wheedling tone, _“Leoooo.”_

His fingertips tingled the moment he brushed Brynhildr’s cover, raw power shooting up his arm with the same force that had nearly made him drop the divine tome the first time he’d held it. Would Corrin, who had followed in Xander’s footsteps in the way of the blade, be able to feel it like Leo did? Without taking the path of a mage, would she pick up on the force not just from the spells inside, but the magic woven into even the ink and paper itself?

Leo hoped she would, only because the concept _awed_ him every time he ran his fingertips over the binding in reverence. To think he held in his hands such puissance, to realize the parchment he turned was as ancient and unyielding to time’s advance as the dark steel of Siegfried’s blade, was downright _intoxicating._

Of course, he thought as he produced it properly—Corrin responding with a satisfying gasp—it would probably help if he could actually _use_ it properly.

He stared at the tome as he passed it to his sister, as if he could silently bend it to his desires by sheer force of will. It wasn’t as if he didn’t _understand_ Brynhildr—no, the prodigy of a prince could wrap his head around all but the most difficult of concepts the divine tome held. The knowledge was _there,_ and it made his struggle all the more frustrating. It was if Brynhildr _fought_ him in a way no mere book should be able to, making even the simplest of spells it contained nigh impossible.

“Wow,” Corrin said, her brow furrowed as she slowly turned through the pages. “And you… actually understand all this?”

“Of course,” Leo said haughtily, straightening his shoulders. “Are you telling me you don’t know the compounds that make up the internal structure of tomatoes?”

“If anyone does, I’m sure it’s you,” Corrin replied with a smile that was tighter than the one she’d given him before. After a moment more, she passed him back Brynhildr. “I wish I could’ve been there to see you receive it in person.”

“...Corrin?” Leo caught a flicker of concern flash over Xander’s features, one he was sure he mirrored.

Shortly, though, she clapped her hands together and bounced a little on her bare toes, all trace of anything but her usual enthusiasm vanishing. “Big brother! Do we have time to spar before dinner?”

Xander glanced up, seeming to ponder the timing for a moment before deciding, “One round, perhaps.”

With a giddy cry, Corrin all but danced away, looking back over her shoulder to call, “Come on, come on!” Xander shook his head, but an indulgent smile played on his features as he followed after her.

Leo stood in the dim corridor, alone, Brynhildr pulsing uselessly in his hand as he found himself drowning once more in his brother’s shadow.

 

~~~

 

_Obey me!_

Leo forced himself not to shiver in the damp night air that surrounded the Northern Fortress, still chill even nearing the ides of July. He sat with his back to the parapet of one of the exterior western walkways, long enough that his crossed legs had started to numb beneath the spread of Brynhildr’s pages.

He’d been staring at the same crack in the flagstones for such a length that his eyes could hardly focus on it anymore, and all he’d managed was a tiny, four-leaved sapling that was more yellow than green. In its place should have been one of the towering cedars that populated some of Hoshido’s more mountainous terrain, yet he had found himself adding perhaps two inches to the sapling’s height in the past quarter of an hour. He had been improving slightly when he had actual soil to employ—able to produce at least a scraggly, knee-height bush of questionable species—but if ever he were to face indoor combat, his disadvantage would be laughably severe if he couldn’t figure this out.

Leo muttered the incantation again, clenching his fist so tightly his nails bit into his palms and jerking his hand skyward, forcing the sapling to produce another tightly curled leaf. For a moment he blinked, then bit back the burst of triumphant laughter that pressed at his lips and repeated the motion as closely as he could.

“Leo?”

His concentration slipped, the sapling fading from yellow to brown and then crumbling into dust before he could even think about salvaging it. Leo slammed his head back against the parapet, letting out a growl that would have been embarrassingly undignified if it had been loud enough for anyone to hear it. “What is it, Corrin?”

“What are you doing out here?” his sister asked, padding over so quietly it wasn’t much wonder he hadn’t noticed her approach beforehand.

“Participating in a study on the effects of hypothermia on the human body,” Leo replied. “I’ve several esteemed mages who have taken a keen interest in my work.”

Corrin glanced down at him, blinking, for several moments. Finally, though, his sardonic words seemed to click, and she aimed a gentle punch at his shoulder. “Leo! It’s too warm for you to get hypothermia!”

“Sister, I should have you know that hypothermia can be developed at curiously moderate temperatures given the right circumstances,” Leo informed her with a lift of his chin. “If I were to linger outside right at this moment in particularly damp clothing, for instance—”

“So what are you actually doing?” Corrin asked abruptly, dropping beside him and resting her chin on his shoulder to peer at Brynhildr.

“...Have you any sense of personal space?” Leo asked, having to crane his neck at a particularly awkward angle to be able to catch of glimpse of her with her current proximity.

“Shouldn’t you know better than to answer a question with a question?” Corrin replied, crimson eyes sparkling.

“Shouldn’t you know better than to interrupt?” Leo shot back.

“Okay, so we’re both terribly rude and unmannered people, moving on.”

Leo made an affronted noise. “I am far from being rude and unmannered!”

“Debatable,” she said, her voice rising to a mischievous note. “But you are ticklish…”

“Corrin!” he cried, aghast. “Corrin, that’s hardly—ah! Ah, C-Corrin, stop this at—aha—a-at once!” Brynhildr fell forgotten to the flagstones as Leo squirmed away, hands held up in a useless defense against the relentless assault.

“Say uncle!” she told him, continuing to advance.

“Corrin, for gods’ sakes—aha, uncle, uncle!”

“With a pretty please?” Corrin continued in a sing-song voice.

_“Corrin!”_

With a grin and giggle, Corrin ceased her torture, leaving Leo curled over and gasping. “For gods’ sakes…”

“Now will you show me what you were doing?” Corrin asked with wide, beseeching eyes.

“Why do you assume there’s something to show?”

After a beat, she nodded pointedly to where Brynhildr sat innocently on the walkway. Leo’s eyes narrowed as he snatched the tome back to his chest.

“I’m sure you have better ways to spend your time than watching me acclimate myself to Brynhildr,” he said in a sour tone, feeling his cheeks begin to pinken.

“Oh, Leo, just one little thing? Please?” Corrin asked, clasping her hands together.

Leo let out a greatly put-upon sigh, though his internal monologue was more along the lines of _How am I supposed to resist that?_ He resettled himself against the parapet, turning Brynhildr to the correct page with hands that ever-so-slightly trembled, then closed his eyes.

He found himself biting his lip in concentration within moments, not trying for something as impressive as the Hoshidan cedar this time, instead lifting his hand with the thought of _Something pretty. Sunny. Something to contrast the drear of this place._

_Something like her..._

Corrin let out a gasp and Leo’s eyes blinked open in startlement, finding a single, miniature daffodil poking out of the flagstones. He faltered for a moment, shock hitting him at how _easy_ it had been, and found the flower beginning to wilt within a moment. He redoubled his efforts and another daffodil rose from the crack, followed by a third, a fourth, a sixth. Within thirty seconds a patch of two dozen had spread in a half-circle around them.

 _“Leo,”_ Corrin breathed, running a knuckle along one of the yellow petals. “This is… these are… it’s _beautiful.”_

Leo paused, swallowed hard, and let the spell fall, the flowers bowing their heads and melting back into the stone. “Ah, yes,” he finally managed. “Perhaps once we reach the battlefield, I’ll call up a patch, and the enemy will be so overcome by that beauty they’ll simply fall to their knees and weep long enough for me to dispatch them.”

Corrin scoffed, but there was a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there a few moments ago. “It’s not like you can’t do plenty of other things with it, though, right?”

Leo glanced away. “As I said,” he told her stiffly. “I’m still acclimating myself to Brynhildr’s… intricacies.”

“Oh,” Corrin said, her voice beginning to bubble with mirth once more. “Don’t tell me it’s possible that the great Prince Leo isn’t _completely perfect_ at everything he tries the _very first time_ he tries it. Such a thing would be completely inconceivable, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sniffed.

“Oh, sure you don’t,” she replied, bumping her shoulder into his. Her tone sobered. “I’m sure you’ll get it eventually.”

A little more anxiety leaked into his tone than Leo would have liked. “I’m not sure there’s going to be time for an ‘eventually,’ Corrin. I have to—” He paused, consciously lowered his voice, then managed, “I have to figure this out.”

“Hmm.” Corrin tilted her head, regarding Brynhildr for a long moment. “Maybe… that’s the problem?” she offered, her face screwing up in concentration. “You’re trying so hard to figure it out… you’re trying to control it too much?”

“Corrin, if a mage doesn’t _control_ their spells they might end up wiping humanity off the face of the planet,” Leo told her, quirking a brow at her. “Perhaps it’s for the best that you chose swordplay.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“You enjoy my keen insight and grounded commentary,” he replied.

“I also enjoy contemplative silence, but that’s beside the point,” Corrin said. _“Anyways._ The point I’m trying to make is… I mean, you were telling me last time you visited that Brynhildr is basically _life,_ right? Or at least the essence of life? And you can’t really _control_ life. You just kind of have to… go with it.”

Leo’s mouth twisted into a contemplative grimace. “An interesting point, but not particularly valid,” he said. “For one, while Brynhildr is most certainly ancient, advanced, and so to speak a different breed entirely from your common spellbook, it hardly has a mind of its own. For another, you’re trying to juxtapose two different meanings of the word _life._ There is _life_ as in the physical processes of _being alive_ and then there is _life_ as in the choices you make which define your current state of being. Two very different things, you see, and hardly comparable. For a third, as I said, the decisions one makes very much _do_ control your life, and as such I must refute your original point in its entirety.”

A beat went by as Corrin glanced away. “Easy for you to say,” she said under her breath.

“I beg your pardon?” Leo asked, raising his brow again.

Corrin flushed, looking back at him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” She sighed. “I just mean… I don’t think the choices I make have very much impact on _my_ life.”

He paused, heart twisting in his chest, and _looked_ at her. Corrin, locked in this fortress under Father’s orders no matter how much Xander and the others pleaded. Corrin, who so desperately just wanted to step foot in the outside world, who clung to her siblings because they were the closest she was ever allowed to come to it.

Corrin, who could never _choose_ to leave a home that might as well be a prison.

“I apologize,” Leo said softly. “That was insensitive of me.”

“It’s all right,” she told him. “I guess I’ll… leave you to your acclimating. Good night, Leo.”

He watched her get to her feet, then scrambled up after her. “Hey. Corrin. Wait.”

She paused and turned back, ivory hair falling over her shoulder in a moonlit curtain. “Yes?”

Leo resisted the sudden urge to break into an embarrassed coughing fit. “Um,” he managed, then held out his arms. “No stairs. My spine is safe, you see.”

Corrin blinked at him for a moment, then obligingly stepped forward and caught him in a hug that wasn’t nearly as tight as the one she’d given him earlier yet still felt a thousand times more intimate. He realized, briefly, that they were nearly the exact same height now—he must have gained a few inches in recent months.

“Thanks, Leo,” she whispered as she let go.

“For what?”

“For… being the best little brother a girl could ask for.”

“I’m you’re only little brother,” Leo reminded her.

“Yeah, well, don’t think that gives you an excuse to slack off,” Corrin told him.

“I wouldn’t dream,” he said earnestly, and offered a slight smile. “Good night, Corrin.”

“‘Night,” she told him again, and turned to go once more.

“Corrin?” he said one last time.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll… keep your advice in mind,” Leo said. He picked Brynhildr up once more, but he didn’t leave the walkway until Corrin had finally padded away.

He couldn’t help himself from sprouting another daffodil, just for a moment, before he, too, slipped back inside the Northern Fortress.


	2. Leave Behind Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leo’s crowning moment of glory is unceremoniously interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Alternate summary: In which the equestrian author gets distracted by the pretty ponies and Leo’s horse suddenly takes over half the exposition.~~

_That’s the price you pay, leave behind your heart and cast away, just another product of today, rather be the hunter than the prey..._

 

Leo had decided the northern wastelands of Nohr were probably the most aptly named place he’d ever visited in his life. It also currently stood at the top of his list of places he could classify as ‘gods forsaken.’ There was little to resemble life, in either flora or fauna, and against the endless reaches of gray stone it was difficult to tell where the area’s notorious, terrifyingly steep drop-offs ended and began.

Their company at present was perhaps a few hours’ ride from the northern reaches of the Bottomless Canyon. So far, the rumors of Hoshidan scouts had gone unconfirmed, and as of then Leo was inclined to believe they’d remain so. After all, if even their party of thick Nohrian blood was beginning to crack under the unrelenting cold, he doubted the sun-bathed Hoshidans would have much taste for the area.

“Chilly, milord?” a familiar voice said, interjecting its unceremonious way into his thoughts. Leo stifled a groan. “I’m sure I could—”

“Niles.”

“—find a way to warm you up,” his retainer finished with a smirk.

 _“Niles,”_ Leo repeated with a long-suffering sigh. “Must everything out of your mouth be a double entendre?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, milord,” Niles replied. “I was merely speaking of starting a fire. Wasn’t I, Asmund?”

“Oh, don’t go dragging me into this, Niles,” Xander’s retainer replied with a good-natured grin.

“Would you prefer I dragged you somewhere else?”

“Niles!” Leo interjected again.

“Yes, Lord Leo?” Niles answered. “Ah, I see I’ve managed to make you blush. Hopefully I’ve achieved my goal of warming you up, then?”

Leo huffed, thinking he might’ve crossed his arms if he hadn’t already come to the conclusion his hands had frozen to his mount’s reins. “Truly, Niles, I’m perfectly fine,” he said in a clipped tone.

“Lord Leo, I do believe you could literally be in several different pieces and you would insist the same,” Asmund pointed out.

“Thank you, Asmund, for that wonderfully gory imagery,” Leo replied crisply. “It was exactly what I needed to improve my day.”

“At your service, milord,” Asmund replied with a cheeky sort of grin. “Anytime.”

Leo didn’t reply, contenting himself with a roll of his eyes. Xander, at the head of their group, had unsurprisingly offered no comments himself, instead keeping his eyes fixed on the stony gray horizon. Behind them, two score of Nohrian footsoldiers followed in their stead, a handful of cavaliers bringing up the rear.

Leo resisted the urge to bury his face in his dark mount’s mane—not only would it look horrendously unbecoming for the second prince to be so childish in front of the company, he doubted the moody stallion beneath him would tolerate the gesture, no matter how warm and appealing his neck appeared. Hati, despite being the near mirror image to Xander’s own mount Skoll, was a world away from his even-keeled full brother in temperament. Leo had lost count of how many times he’d caught a nip from Hati’s teeth (and sometimes more than a nip), and didn’t particularly care to dwell on how many times the black had left him eating dirt. And considering his mount—as most horses of his breeding did—stood at well over seventeen hands, such landings were never particularly gentle. On the other hand, Leo had _eventually_ learned how to stick quite the buck, so he supposed that was a plus.

Besides, his other option had been a wyvern. Compared to that, even a demon like Hati was preferable.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a lift of Xander’s hand, signaling their company to a halt. Hati tossed his head, starting to jig sideways for a moment before Leo rolled his eyes again and put an unceremonious stop to the attempt.

“Milord?” Asmund asked in a low tone.

Xander pointed above their heads, so far up Leo had to furrow his brow a moment as he followed the gesture. He was about to question his brother’s sudden fascination with the clouds when he caught a glimpse of white through the gray.

Pegasus wings.

“It seems the rumors were true,” Xander said. “Soldiers, prepare to engage on sight.”

Leo ignored the sudden tang of fear that coated the back of his throat, forcing himself to square his shoulders inside the black plates of his armor.

 _I’m sending you on this trip,_ King Garon had said before they had left, _believing that you will make me proud, Leo._ His father had offered him one of those rare smiles—stern, yes, but still genuine—and continued, _Prove to me I did the right thing to grant you Brynhildr._

Leo had answered, a little too quickly, his voice a little too high, that _Of course I will, Father._

 _Then use it well,_ Garon had said. _Use it always as your brother does Siegfried. For the glory of Nohr._

And Leo had bristled, just a touch, as he always did when someone just had to hold Xander up as the standard he had to reach. Garon hadn’t seemed to notice.

“Lord Xander?” Niles asked, his voice bringing Leo back to the present for the second time. His retainer held his bow in a loose grip, arrow nocked but not yet drawn. “If I have a shot…?”

Xander didn’t answer for a long moment, eyes still fixed skyward. Finally, he replied in a grim voice, “Take it.”

“Understood, milord,” Niles answered.

“Rather rich of Hoshido,” Leo found himself saying in a lofty tone. “To attempt to seal themselves off from Nohrian invasion and then so wantonly come knocking on our door.”

“Indeed,” Xander replied. “Perhaps it’s time we remind them why we have no need of magical barriers to keep them out.” He rose in his stirrups, his hand on Siegfried’s hilt. “Their camp must be nearby—pegasi cannot fly far in this weather. Forward!”

 

~~~

 

Niles had a shot.

Leo saw it only a split-second after his retainer loosed the arrow. The pegasus they’d spotted earlier had dipped below the clouds for a fraction too long, and it paid for it with a shot through the wing. The wounded creature’s screech left all the Nohrian horses flinging their heads up, a handful whinnying in response.

“Milord, should we pursue?” Asmund asked when the commotion had died down.

“Yes,” said Xander. “We may be able to question the rider, if they survived the fall.” He swung Skoll around, aiming the stallion up a rocky slope leading toward where the pegasus had been downed. The crown prince paused at the top. “Ah,” he said. “And so it seems we’ve found our invaders.”

The Hoshidan camp spread out below them, lines of haphazard tents gathered around a scattering of large fires that were almost certainly being kept alive by the force’s onmyoji due to the area’s complete lack of more traditional fuel. At the clatter of hooves, several fur-clad soldiers looked up toward the plateau, plainly alarmed by what they saw.

Xander immediately drew Skoll back below the top of the rise, removing himself from archer range before he spun back and began barking orders to their squadron. Below, it was plain to hear the Hoshidans doing the same as the Nohrians split into well-trained formation.

“Xander?” Leo finally dared to interrupt, his palms beginning to sweat within his gauntlets. “Where do you want me?”

His brother didn’t even look back at him. “Take Niles and continue after the pegasus he shot down.”

“What?” Leo’s voice rose with disbelief. “But surely I could be better served—”

“Do as I say, Leo,” Xander barked. As Leo continued to hesitate, Hati backing up a handful of steps, the crown prince continued, “That is an order, and if you wish to continue to fight in the Nohrian army you will obey it!”

Leo clenched his hands for a moment and felt Hati coil, shifting his weight to his hindquarters. A moment later and his own mount would be as skybound as a pegasus, he realized with a conscious loosening of his grip. “Yes, brother,” he said tightly, urging Hati away and into a canter before Xander could get a read on the irritation on his face.

He was not out of hearing distance when Xander charged into the fray with a shouted _“For the glory of Nohr!”_

Another set off hooves pounded after Leo, though Niles’s smaller mare was nearly at a dead gallop to keep up with Hati’s massive stride. Reluctantly, he pulled the stallion up short, glancing over his shoulder toward Niles before admitting to himself he really needed to be paying more attention to his surroundings.

“Milord,” Niles said when he caught up, slightly breathless. “With all due respect, I can feel you seething from here.”

Leo snorted, giving Hati the reins for a moment—gods, but he could feel the tension simmering beneath him, mirroring his own, and he knew from experience if his mount got it in his head to explode the odds of his actually staying on were not great. “I’m quite certain that Xander just told me to ‘run along and play, Leo, stay out of trouble while the adults take care of it.’”

“To be fair, milord, you just passed your fourteenth a matter of weeks ago.”

 _That’s plenty old enough to prove myself!_ Leo thought, but didn’t voice it. A more rational piece of him said that Xander probably knew of his struggles with Brynhildr, and knew that putting him in the thick of battle would likely do more harm than good, but how was he ever supposed to leave Xander’s shadow when he never got the chance to show he could?

He nudged Hati forward again, though the stallion still felt like a giant bundle of nerves, and reluctantly began to scan the area once more. It had been hard to tell how badly the target of their search had been hit—enough damage and mount and rider would have been sent into a freefall that would have killed them both on impact, but if the pegasus had been able to control its descent there might still be a threat. Leo dared take one hand off the reins for a moment, gripping Brynhildr’s spine. Even if he _couldn’t_ end up conjuring more than a field of daffodils, the thrum of the divine tome beneath his fingertips felt more reassuring than nothing.

Niles continued following him in silence, the landscape unfolding endlessly similar before them. At the very moment Leo began to wonder if they were going to be able to find their way back again, a dreamy sort of voice reached him. “Oh, dear. Well, this isn’t good…”

“Yeah, no bloody kidding!”

The acidic response wasn’t particularly loud, but the tone was harsh enough that Hati took full advantage of the excuse to jump completely out of his skin. Leo mentally cursed—more at himself than his mount, because Leo had been so keyed up and on edge that of _course_ Hati would be feeding off it, and why hadn’t he just taken a moment to breathe and settle them both?—as muscle memory took over. That, and the very clear inner voice of his old riding instructor that was screaming at him to _Sit back and pick his head up, sit down and RIDE IT, Leo!_

Her words held him on through the first leap, but Hati was nothing if not blindingly athletic and Leo had already been firmly unseated. There was a moment of resigned inevitability he was all-too-familiar with before he went tumbling, a breath’s worth of weightless freefall, and Leo hit the ground with an ear-splitting clatter of metal on stone.

The prince let out a groan, momentarily forgetting the voices that had caused his predicament in the first place. He lifted his head in time to see Niles lean halfway out of his own saddle, reaching for Hati’s loose reins and failing as the stallion dodged out of reach, heading with reckless abandon back toward the rest of the squadron.

 _“...Dammit,”_ Leo said after a long moment, sitting up with a wince. He’d certainly taken harder falls in the past—nothing felt broken—but he’d be black and blue within the hour.

He watched Niles tense, arrow in his bow faster than he would have thought possible, the same moment the hazy voice from earlier reached them again. “Hmm… that looked unpleasant… do you think we should help them…?”

Leo spun, automatically reaching for Brynhildr as he forced himself back to his feet—thank the gods he hadn’t been stupid enough to keep the tome on his saddle—and found himself facing two heavily cloaked figures, a plainly injured pegasus standing dejectedly between them at perhaps the distance of three wyverns nose to tail.

“Oh, I don’t know, Setsuna,” the shorter of the two snapped, a Hoshidan lance— _naginata,_ Leo reminded himself—raised in a guard stance. _“Should_ we help the damned Nohrians that just shot us out of the sky?”

“Um… I don’t know… that’s why I’m asking you… Lady Hinoka.”

 _Hinoka?_ Leo’s eyes narrowed and he couldn’t quite hide the scoff that escaped his lips. “Well, perhaps one should be more careful about how low one flies over _Nohrian territory,”_ he said, then added, _“Lady Hinoka.”_

Hoofsteps sounded from behind him as Niles guided his horse to Leo’s side. “Oh ho _ho,”_ the retainer chuckled. “And what’s the spoiled little princess of Hoshido doing out here all alone?” he all but crooned. “Are you lost?”

“No,” Hinoka snapped back. “Are you? I can show you the way to hell if you’d like.”

Despite himself, Leo had to bite back a laugh at her fire. Instead, though, he squared his shoulders once more and, emboldened by Niles’s proximity, said, “Perhaps it would be better to begin making your own reservations there. If King Garon finds out that Hoshidan royalty was on this side of the Canyon…” He gave a shrug that probably looked a lot more casual than he felt. “Wars have been started over less.”

He didn’t expect Hinoka to _explode._ “Maybe there should have been war a long time ago!” she shouted. “Maybe when your mad, coward king kidnapped my sister from us! Maybe we should have blown Nohr to bits back then!”

Leo pulled up short, a slight little pulse in his hands coming from Brynhildr. Niles spoke before he could respond, though. “Hmph. It seems the only madness here is the one that’s befallen the Hoshidan line.” He raised his bow again. “Should I put her out of her misery, Lord Leo?”

A beat passed before Hinoka laughed aloud. “Looks like I’m not the only misplaced royalty around here, am I, Prince Leo? I thought you’d be taller.”

“What in gods’ names are you talking about?” Leo asked, and it wasn’t in reference to his height. He gestured absently for Niles to hold. “Nohr has never kidnapped—”

“Don’t act like you don’t know!” Hinoka spat. “Don’t you dare try to play the victim card again, Nohrian! Not when you took Kamui from us!”

 _Kamui._ The name rang vaguely familiar, though it took Leo a moment to place it. A Hoshidan princess, once upon a time, not much older than Leo himself if he remembered correctly—

Or she would have been, had she not died at the tender age of five, the same year that King Sumeragi had been killed.

“You speak insanity,” Leo finally said lowly. “Nohr had nothing to do with Princess Kamui’s passing.”

A dangerous glint came to Hinoka’s eye. “You know as well as I do that _she’s not dead,”_ she replied. “And I’m going to bring her back to Hoshido if it _kills_ me!”

Leo realized, a moment too late, that he’d been so caught up with the puzzle Hinoka had suddenly presented to him that he’d lost track of Setsuna. The woman had crept around the backside of the wounded pegasus, and he only spotted her the moment she loosed an arrow from her yumi.

Niles was faster. The former thief spurred his mount forward, spinning the mare to block Leo with her body, readying his own shot even as Setsuna’s arrow sunk home in his thigh.

 _“Niles!”_ Leo cried, unable to get a glimpse of the damage from his lower vantage point. He suddenly, _desperately_ wished for Hati’s solid warmth beneath him, even realizing distantly that if he’d been mounted there would have been no way for Niles to block the shot without taking it in the head. The prince took a trembling step backward as another arrow flew past.

“Milord!” Niles shouted. “Go!”

“Absolutely not!” Brynhildr pulsed in Leo’s hands again and instinct bid him to open it—so what if the best he could reliably produce was a field of flowers? At least that would be a _distraction!_

The incantation rose to his lips, already memorized, but it was another set of words entirely that occupied the forefront of his mind. _You can’t really control life. You just kind of have to… go with it._

 _All right, Corrin,_ he thought with a silent, bitter laugh, pushing a trembling hand forward with the final flourish of the spell. Niles sent out another arrow, Setsuna returning fire half a second later. _This is me, going with it._

For a long, painful moment, nothing happened.

And then for the first time, Brynhildr _answered_ him.

The ground shook with such force that Leo staggered sideways, falling out of Niles’s cover. As soon as he regained his footing, he found himself all but face-to-face with Hinoka, her naginata raised.

Just as suddenly, he wasn’t.

With a flick of his wrist that he hadn’t even quite registered, Leo had split the stones beneath their feet, throwing Hinoka backward and out of reach of the tree trunk that occupied the space she’d been a moment prior. The distant, analytical part of Leo’s brain noted that he hadn’t even realized where one spell ended and the next began—or frankly, the exact spells he was even _using._ All he knew was that Brynhildr had gone quieter in his hands than he’d ever felt it.

No, Leo realized. Brynhildr hadn’t gone quiet—it had channeled all its power into _him._ Every thrum and pulse he’d ever felt from the cover ran up his spine, no longer that ancient, awe-inspiring, untapped potential but power that was his to control as precisely as he saw fit.

With a mere curl of his fingers, he brought the tree he’d just conjured crashing to the earth again, fading back into the stones an instant later. In that moment, the earth itself was Leo’s _plaything,_ and the only reason he paused as long as he did was to figure out what he intended to try next.

“You should’ve surrendered!” he called to Hinoka, preparing to break open the ground between them, open a chasm that would give Niles enough room to escape—

_“Be gone, wretch!”_

A blast of dark energy shot through the clearing, entirely distinct from Brynhildr’s spells. Leo froze, subconsciously lowering the divine tome as his shoulders sank and his stomach dropped.

Skoll leapt past him, Xander standing in his stirrups and brandishing Siegfried. He, too, reined his horse to a halt in front of Leo, blocking the second prince’s view of Hinoka and Setsuna once more. Behind him, Asmund swung around to Niles’s side, his lance at the ready. “You’re not hurt, are you?” Xander asked with concern, glancing at Leo for a split second.

All at once, the fire left Leo’s veins, and it was in a small voice he answered, “No, brother.”

Xander nodded curtly in response to that before turning his attention back to their foreign visitors. “Princess Hinoka!” he called. “Your squadron informed me of your presence!”

To her credit, Hinoka didn’t have the slightest hint of intimidation in her tone as she squared her shoulders. “Did they also inform you of our intent, Nohrian?”

Xander snorted. “They did indeed tell me of the reasoning for your incursion on our territory,” he replied in a cold voice. Hinoka opened her mouth to speak again, but he cut her off. “They also said that doing so was, in fact, a direct violation of the orders of both Queen Mikoto _and_ High Prince Ryoma.”

“So what if it was?” Hinoka asked.

“In light of this,” Xander continued, “my men have spared the majority of their lives. They will escort your company back to the Hoshidan border.”

“And we’ll come back!” Hinoka shouted. “We’ll keep coming back! Until you give us back Kamui!”

“Your reasoning is irrelevant!” Xander shot back. “And you will inform your queen that any further intrusions on Nohrian territory _will_ be met with deadly force!”

Hinoka lifted her naginata, stepping closer. “Then kill us! More will rise to take our place! Until Hoshido has justice!”

Xander lowered Siegfried, pointing it toward her. “Does Hoshido want a war, Princess?” he asked in a low voice. “Because if you do, I will kill you where you stand, and Nohr will give her one.”

Hinoka stood for a moment, chest heaving, before she looked beyond the group and finally lowered her weapon. Leo glanced over his shoulder to see the Hoshidan force—barely half the size of the Nohrian squadron, he noted—cresting the rise, escorted by Xander’s own men. One of the cavaliers, Leo saw with a lift of his heart, was leading a supremely irritated Hati by the reins.

“As I thought,” said the crown prince. “Return to your land of light. I hope I’ll not see you here again.”

“...You will,” Hinoka said. “By the Dawn Dragon, _you will.”_

Leo shuddered, and saw the princess no more as she was swept up with her men.

Xander watched them for a long moment, then gave a slow nod. “Come, Leo,” he said. “We’re finished here.”


	3. A Bit of the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leo learns Nohr’s best kept secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: you know the saying "three sides to every story?" Yeah, that absolutely applies here. Not only was Xander not present to witness the incident he describes himself, he also heard it directly from his father--which means he got the extremely pro-Nohr, pro-Garon version of the story. Not only is Leo getting it third-hand, he's hearing a highly-edited and, frankly, mostly untrue sequence of events. There's a reasoning the tale differs so much from what we know in canon. That is all.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Also, this chapter tore my heart out of my chest, ground it to a pulp, poured lemon juice on it, then lit it on fire and shoved the charred remains back into my chest. I kind of think it did the same to poor Leo, too.~~

_Looking through the glass, find the wrong within the past, knowing we are the youth, cut until it bleeds inside a world without the peace, facing a bit of the truth…_

 

The quiet murmur of voices from inside Xander’s tent betrayed the presence of Leo’s brother, and the younger prince didn’t bother to announce himself before flinging open the flap.

Both Xander and Asmund, seated on opposite sides of a lightweight traveling desk, looked up immediately, the former with a furrow in his brow and the latter with a lopsided frown. Leo, meanwhile, crossed his arms with a flat, “Xander.”

His brother quirked a brow in acknowledgment and returned, “Leo.”

“I would speak with you,” Leo continued, then shot a pointed glance towards Asmund. “Alone.”

The retainer glanced between the two, unmoving for a moment until Xander nodded to him. “Very well. You’re dismissed, Asmund. We’ll continue this later.” Xander’s gaze flicked back to Leo’s. “Have a seat.”

Leo did, though his steps were stiff—partially from the tension in his form but mostly because Hati had done a number on him for the umpteenth time. There was, unfortunately, only so much a healing stave could do for sore muscles.

As if reading his mind, Xander spoke before Leo even opened his mouth. “We might do well to set about finding you a different mount.”

Leo straightened a fraction in surprise but managed to keep his voice level. “I don’t want another horse,” he said flatly. “Hati suits me fine.”

“On that I must beg to differ,” Xander replied. “I don’t believe that horse is well-suited to anyone.” The corner of his mouth tipped downward. “His breeding is unparalleled and his build among the finest I’ve ever seen, but surely I cannot be alone in finding his personality… lacking.”

Leo clasped his hands in his lap, his words carefully measured. “Just because you didn’t want him,” he said, “doesn’t mean I don’t.” He’d occasionally wondered how obvious it had been to anyone who really knew him—that he’d laid claim on the horse that had been bred to be Xander’s, only for the crown prince to reject the colt and try the cross again as Hati’s true nature began to show. The breeding had worked in Xander’s favor the second time, producing the more laid-back Skoll, but surely Leo’s elder brother knew he’d taken Hati solely because Xander _hadn’t._

“Have you considered his half-brother, from the same year?” Xander asked. “I’ve been told his training has progressed quite well—”

“The flashy bay gelding, three socks and a blaze?” Leo interjected, then scoffed as Xander nodded. “That horse is afraid of his own shadow. Perhaps he’d be a fine mount—for a _troubadour.”_

Xander let out a soft sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Leo… while I admire your determination, there comes a point where it begins to tread the line of self-destruction. On the battlefield, remaining mounted or not can be the difference between life and death.” He lowered his hand to look Leo in the eye again. “I won’t always be nearby to rescue you.”

Leo closed his eyes, breathing in deeply and forcing himself to count to ten before he let it back out. That was what it always came back to, wasn’t it? _Not good enough, not strong enough. A pity that he’ll never be as great as Xander._

“I didn’t need you to rescue me,” Leo finally got out through gritted teeth.

_Not old enough. Not trained enough. Not experienced enough and not smart enough to realize it._

When was he ever going to be enough of _anything?_

“Leo,” Xander started again, his tone gentle.

Leo pushed himself to his feet, hands clenched at his sides so Xander wouldn’t see them trembling with anger. “Don’t patronize me, Xander,” he snapped, turning away from his brother. “This isn’t what I came to talk about.”

“Then pray get to the point, Leo,” Xander replied, his tone beginning to grow short.

“What really happened to Princess Kamui?”

Leo’s words hung in the air so long without reply he finally turned back around. Xander’s face had grown startlingly pale, his body so still it might’ve been made of wax.

At long last, the crown prince let out a breath, then a cross between a soft snort and a humorless laugh. “I’ve long dreaded the day you were going to ask me that question,” he said.

“...Why?” Leo whispered.

“Because I’m quite certain you are not going to like the answer.”

Leo blinked, his lips parting a fraction in puzzlement. He’d supposed it was entirely possible—judging by Hinoka’s words—that Nohr had perhaps had a hand in the Hoshidan princess’s demise, but surely that alone wouldn’t be enough to justify the graveness of Xander’s features. After all, Leo had survived being a pawn to be played against his half-siblings. The death of one girl neither of them had ever met couldn’t be worse than that.

“Sit down, Leo,” Xander said again, resigned. “I suppose you’re old enough to learn the truth.”

The second prince did as he was bid, too curious now to pitch a fit.

“What do you know of her?” Xander asked him.

Leo paused, wracking his mind for a moment. “I admit my knowledge of the Hoshidan royal family is a bit lacking,” he finally said. “But she was the third child, no? Between Princess Hinoka and Prince Takumi?” At Xander’s nod, he continued, “And she died quite young. The same year as King Sumeragi.”

“Of the timing, you are correct,” Xander confirmed. “As for her fate, you are not. I’m afraid Kamui is still very much alive.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands together on his desk. “It will be ten years ago, this coming November. I had just turned twelve, and you were coming up on four-and-a-half. I rather doubt you remember… how severe the famine was that year.”

After a moment, Leo shook his head.

“As I thought. It was a combination of many things, I suppose. The southern farmlands had suffered a drought that lasted nearly the entire summer, Nestra had hiked its tariffs, the Ice Tribe seemed to be contemplating open revolt… Between all of that, there was hardly enough food to last through the winter, no less until the following harvest.” Xander glanced away. _“We_ were fine, of course. Krakenburg was always fed. But the rest of Nohr was going to starve. There was little we could do… so in desperation, Father turned to Hoshido.”

“Did he try to invade?” Leo asked.

“The opposite,” Xander replied. “He arranged a meeting with King Sumeragi in Cheve, intending to negotiate a portion of Hoshido’s harvest for raw Nohrian materials—metals and the like. All of what Nohr has in abundance that does very little to fill one’s belly.”

“And Sumeragi’s reaction?” Leo asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs. Why had he never heard this? The last king of Hoshido had died in Cheve, he knew, and the timing checked out to tie into the tale Xander was telling him now.

“He agreed to parley,” said Xander. “As an act of… ‘good faith,’ he even brought two of his children with him: Ryoma and Kamui. Yet, in the end, it was a trap. Father ended up slaying Sumeragi in self-defense.”

“...That should have started a _war,”_ Leo said.

“It should have,” Xander agreed. “And Father knew it would—but without enough food to even support ourselves, Nohr was on the verge of collapse without Hoshido’s help. So, in the ensuing chaos… Father took Kamui with him as leverage.”

Leo had nothing resembling an eloquent response to that. “Gods…”

“He intended,” Xander said heavily, “to hold her for ransom, in exchange for both peace and the supplies Sumeragi had promised. Instead of relenting, Hoshido kidnapped a Nohrian princess in retaliation: Arete’s daughter Azura.”

It was a moment before Leo could place the name, tying it into young, fragmented memories of blue hair and a sister he’d hardly spoken to. He nodded for his brother to continue.

“We spent that winter in a stalemate,” Xander said. “Neither side was truly ready to go to war over it, and neither side could release their captives without admitting a failure that would open them up to it. And so… neither one did. Azura remained in Hoshido, and Kamui in Nohr.” He shook his head. “A great many Nohrians starved that year because of Hoshido’s stubbornness.”

“But what happened to _Kamui?”_ Leo asked, sitting back in his chair again. “You said she’s still alive.”

“Indeed,” Xander said grimly. “Though Hoshido’s royal family told their people otherwise. Apparently they found it a stain of Sumeragi’s honor that he’d allowed his daughter to be taken by Nohr, and so they began to spread the tale that she had fallen sick and subsequently passed from it. I believe very few in either of our countries know the real story.” He glanced away from Leo. “They were nearer to the truth than they thought. Kamui took very ill within weeks of arriving in Windmire, and came close to death. We believe it’s why she has no memory of Hoshido now. So Father… decided to pass her off as another of his daughters, our half-sister. But he knew he couldn’t keep her in the palace with the rest of us, for fear Hoshido would steal her away as they had Azura. And as such… he had protective wards placed around the Northern Fortress, and sent her there.” Xander let out a bitter laugh. “And there Kamui remains to this day.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. _But the Northern Fortress is—_

And, in a single second, Leo’s entire world fell apart at the seams.

 _“Corrin,”_ he whispered, voice thick with horror.

Corrin, the bright and shining star of such a drear place as Nohr. Corrin, bouncing and elated every time they visited. Corrin, his best friend, who knew Leo better than he knew himself sometimes, his _sister—_

But not his sister. Not Nohrian but _Hoshidan,_ not Corrin but _Kamui._

“Yes, Leo,” Xander said softly. “Corrin.”

Leo’s entire body went cold at the affirmation. He curled his arms around his stomach, afraid for a moment he was about to heave all over Xander’s desk.

“This doesn’t have to change anything,” his brother said after a long moment.

“This changes everything!” Leo shot back. “This is—it was—and you _knew!”_ he cried, his voice rising with every word. “You knew all along, and you—how could you _lie_ to all of us, Xander?”

“Camilla was old enough to put the timing together quite early on,” said Xander. “She’s known the truth nearly as long as I have.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Leo almost shouted in return. “And Corrin—she’s spent her whole life thinking we’re her family, when we’re really her—her _kidnappers!”_

“Leo,” Xander said, his tone growing stern. “Take a deep breath and think rationally about this.”

“Don’t you _dare_ tell me to be rational about this!” Leo shot to his feet again, breaths coming in short, heavy gasps that were starting to border on sobs. “Fine! Lie to Elise and I all you like, but how have you not told _Corrin?_ How in the name of the gods can you live with yourself to know her _real_ siblings are willing to _die_ to get her back and she doesn’t even know they exist? How can you claim to care for her knowing all that?”

 _“We did it for her sake!”_ Xander thundered, rising from his chair.

Leo stilled with a flinch. For as long as he could remember there had always been that odd push-pull between the two Nohrian princes—how Leo wanted to be nothing like Xander, and at the same time exactly like him. It meant he was usually left feeling some strange combination of admiration and irritation in his brother’s presence, swinging further one way or the other depending on the exact circumstances.

It was a rare moment indeed that he abandoned both of those and found himself slipping toward _fear._

Leo forced himself to ignore it, to straighten his back and look Xander in the face, to ignore the way his throat worked to form words that weren’t coming and the way his eyes were starting to ache with the effort of holding back tears.

Surprisingly enough, it was Xander who finally dropped his gaze, letting out a heavy sigh before dropping back to his chair. “Surely you have to see,” he started, “why we made the decision to keep the matter a secret.”

“Because it was _easier,”_ Leo replied, his voice high and thready. He bit his lip for a moment, making himself to suck in a steadying breath. He was not a _boy_ anymore, and he was _not_ going to cry about this.

Even if it felt like everything he’d ever known to be truth had just imploded in on itself.

“Wasn’t it?” he continued to prod when the crown prince didn’t answer. “Easier to pretend she was one of us. Easier to sweep it under the rug so that we could play at being a real family for once in our lives.” He let out a bitter laugh that wobbled dangerously close to a hiccup. “Like our family could ever be anything but dysfunctional.”

“What would you rather, Leo?” Xander asked. “If Corrin were to leave that fortress, if Hoshido were to find her again, there _would_ be war. Would you prefer that she _knew_ she is the last thing holding this peace together? Would it be better for her to know her siblings live in a world unreachable to her, and that she is doomed to rot away without hope, without love, for the rest of her life, for the sake of peace?” He let a beat go by. “Or is it better to let her live with two brothers and two sisters who adore her, who visit whenever they can, and who give her hope that she will someday get to leave that prison?”

Leo ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut a fraction of a second too late to halt the tear that slipped down his cheek. “But it’s all still a _lie,”_ he got out. “And it… a lie like that can’t possibly hold up forever.” His mind conjured up Corrin’s face, utter hurt and betrayal etched across it, and he took in another gasping breath. “She’ll find out one day. Some way or another. And she’ll _hate_ us for it.”

“And will our telling her now soften that blow?” Xander questioned. “Or will it merely shorten the time she’s allowed to be happy in that lie?”

Mutely, Leo shook his head. “I don’t… I don’t…”

Xander got to his feet once more, slowly this time, and crossed to the other side of the desk. “Now that you know… I cannot stop you from telling her, if you chose to do so. But think through the consequences if you do—and ask yourself what you would regret more: Telling her the truth, having Hoshido storming our doorsteps, and in all possibility losing Corrin to them permanently? Or keeping the secret, lying to her a little while longer?”

A beat went by. “You’re leaving it to me,” Leo said, his voice flat with disbelief. _Since when are you not the only one allowed to make decisions like this?_

“I am,” Xander said. “The decision is yours—because _this_ is what it means to be a Prince of Nohr. To make those hard choices, because no one else will. To stand always for the greater good, no matter the personal sacrifice. To decide between one life and a thousand. But this is what we do… For the glory of Nohr.” He clasped a hand to Leo’s shoulder. “And that is why I’ve kept that secret. Because sometimes, when we say ‘for the glory of Nohr…’ often what we really mean is ‘for the _good_ of Nohr.’”

Leo shook his head once more, and silently asked, _And what about for the good of Corrin?_

 

~~~

 

“Big brother!”

The ringing greeting echoed down the stairway, as did the rumbling reply of “Little princess.”

This time, Leo did not pause at the bottom of the stairwell to partake in the enjoyment his siblings’ mere presence gave him. He stopped, feet frozen to the stones of the first step, hand caught in a death grip on the railing, and tried to steel himself to take in a scene that was so familiar it made him ache and yet would never be the same again.

“Xanderrrr!” a third voice suddenly interjected. “You’re baaack!”

A low, feminine chuckle followed. “Brother. Good to see you’ve returned in one piece.”

Leo let out a tiny fraction of the breath he’d been holding. He’d known Elise and Camilla were visiting as well, thanks to the tell-tale presence of their mounts in the stable, and had felt the smallest relief of the weight on his shoulders when he’d seen them. It meant Corrin’s focus would be divided four ways instead of merely two.

“Where’s Leo?” Camilla continued, her tone suddenly concerned.

“He was right behind me,” Xander said, turning around just in time to meet Leo’s eye as the younger prince finally forced himself to ascend. “Ah, there we are.”

“Camilla,” Leo greeted, forcing his lips into a tight smile.

This time, it was Elise’s voice instead of Corrin’s that gave an excited cry of “Big brother!” and this time, Leo was smart enough to take a step sideways away from the staircase before he had a sister barreling into him.

_(At least it really was a sister this time.)_

“And Elise,” he grunted, managing to free one arm enough to rather awkwardly pat her on the shoulder.

“Look!” Elise cried upon releasing him. “Corrin did my hair! Isn’t it pretty?”

Leo couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking over to Corrin _(Kamui),_ though he quickly looked away when she offered him a soft smile, lest he betray himself with a grimace in return. “Lovely,” he told Elise in a clipped tone.

“Truly beautiful,” Xander agreed indulgently. “It seems our little princess is a talented stylist indeed.”

Corrin blushed a little—Leo cursed his eyes for wandering to her again—and ducked her head. “Thank you, Xander.”

_(Thank you for lying to me about my entire life.)_

Xander chuckled, giving a light tug of Corrin’s hair in response. “Now,” the eldest said, “I do believe I heard something about supper?”

Leo thanked every god he could think of for the distraction, and spoke as little as he thought he could get away with over the meal. Just when he thought he could stand no more, Xander told Camilla in an undertone he wished to speak with her in private—presumably, Leo could only assume, to discuss the implications of his own newfound knowledge. Elise took the opportunity to steal Corrin away to their rooms again, likely to continue whatever game of dress-up the princes’ arrival had interrupted.

There was nothing to stop Leo from fleeing.

The familiar scent of a well-kept barn enveloped him as he slid aside the heavy door that opened into the Northern Fortress’s relatively small stables—the sweet scent of hay mixing with the warmth of horsehide and leather. A dozen stalls were split into four rows of three, the middle six butting up back-to-back so that there were only two aisleways, both of which led to the tack and feed rooms at the back. It was hardly a fraction of the size of the stables at Castle Krakenburg, but considering the most visitors Corrin ever had at once consisted of four siblings _(who weren’t her siblings)_ and five retainers, it was enough.

Elise’s pony, a sweet but skittish gray mare by the name of Tiny Dancer, poked her head over her stall and whickered a greeting to Leo, who obligingly offered her a scratch as he passed. Judging by the lack of any other attention at his arrival and the pronounced sounds of chomping, the barn had just been fed.

Hati flicked an ear back as Leo leaned against the window of his stall, but gave no other acknowledgment for a long moment, enamored with his hay. When the prince made no move to leave, the stallion finally looked up, fixing him with a gaze that could have certainly been called derisive if it hadn’t been coming from a horse, as if to say _Hey, you didn’t see me come stare at_ you _while you ate_ your _dinner, did you, human?_

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Leo told him flatly.

A flick of a glossy black tail was the response this time. _Get better at staying on, then._

“Yeah, yeah, I know, ‘sit down and ride it.’”

Hati snorted. Leo thought he might have been telling to get his life together—if he knew what he was supposed to be doing, why wasn’t he doing it? Or, perhaps the black was pointing out that Leo probably had better things to do with his time than staring at him.

Leo decided he had superior sources of life advice than a horse, and chose to ignore that thought. Hati, meanwhile, chose to ignore Leo and went back to his hay. With a sigh, the boy wondered if it might be better to simply remain in the stables until he could be sure it was late enough that everyone else had gone to bed.

It was some time later that her call reached him. “...Little brother?”

In response, he all but jumped out of his skin. “Ah,” Leo managed, his throat dry enough that his voice nearly cracked on the lone syllable. “Corrin.”

_(I’m not your little brother.)_

“Oh!” Corrin’s voice rose with excitement a moment before she ducked into view, her hair now done in an elaborate style that resembled Elise’s that was almost certainly his little sister’s repayment for the same. “Here you are!”

Leo tried, for a long moment, to come up with an especially witty reply to that. Finding himself unable to force out so much as a _Here I am,_ though, he contented himself with a half-hearted wave.

“Hi, Hati!” Corrin said, coming up beside Leo and stretching her arm through the window. Hati turned his head slightly, fixing her with one dark eye but otherwise unmoving besides lipping up another mouthful of hay—very clearly acknowledging her and just as blatantly ignoring her. “Wow. Okay, I see how it is,” she said, but there was a lightness in her tone that betrayed her offended words.

“Clearly dinner outranks your affections,” Leo told her.

“Apparently so.” She dropped her arm, leaving it dangling in the stall—perhaps in case Hati changed his mind, which Leo didn’t see happening any time soon.

They fell into silence that he was both desperate and loath to break. _Did you need me?_ he could ask. _Is everyone else unavailable and so you decided to content yourself with me?_ a more cynical part of him wondered.

_(By the way, we’re not actually related.)_

“Are you okay?” Corrin asked softly, turning so that she was halfway facing Leo instead of being pressed to the stall wall as he was. “You’ve been really quiet tonight.”

Leo opened his mouth, for a moment about to blurt out that he was _very much not okay_ when he thought better of it. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” he said in a prim tone that was comfortingly familiar. He could do this. “Just rather worn out from the trip.”

Corrin’s eyes lit up, rosy and impossibly bright. “Xander told me you were fantastic.”

Leo bit back a scoff. “Did he, now?”

“Mmhmm,” she said. Then, in a light voice: “Guess you were worried about nothing, huh?” When he didn’t respond, she leaned a little further into the stall, inserting herself into his field of view before waving a hand in front of his face. “Hey? Leo? You in there?”

Instead of answering, he closed his eyes and reached for Brynhildr’s cover, the now-familiar surge of power rising to meet him. At Corrin’s puzzled look, he nodded behind her.

A bright green bush had sprouted in the aisle, rising perhaps to her waist, the leaves rounded and a great deal of blindingly orange, five-petaled flowers scattered along its branches. _Nasturtium,_ Leo quickly identified it. “Oh!” Corrin cried, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “Look at that! You did—oh, Hati, _no!”_

Oblivious to Corrin’s delight, the stallion had taken an interest in this sudden new food source that had taken root conveniently in his reach, and as such stretched his neck over the window and yanked a mouthful of leaves off the bush. His expression was almost contemplative as he chewed, a flower sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“Hati!” Leo said in what he hoped was a stern tone. “That wasn’t for you!”

Hati turned his head, giving Leo a very deliberate stare before snorting a mixture of saliva and half-chewed nasturtium leaves over Leo’s shirt.

Leo blinked, then stared down at the slobber now decorating his torso. “Lovely,” he said with a put-upon sigh.

Corrin giggled.

“Don’t take his side,” Leo said flatly, sending her a sidelong glance. With a flick of his hand he sent the offending bush withering back to the dirt.

“I mean, it could be worse,” Corrin said, her tone lilting.

Leo sighed again. “How so?”

“Your shirt could be inside out.”

He rolled his eyes, not dignifying that with a response. She, meanwhile, giggled again.

“You sure you’re all right?” Corrin asked softly, her tone sobering once more.

 _How can I be all right?_ Leo wondered. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore how the very beat of his heart thudded out her name in an endless rhythm, an unbroken pound of _Corrin, Corrin._ His truest friend, his _only_ real friend; the person he counted, out of all their family, the one he held most dear—and the entire basis of all of it was one looming lie.

How could he continue to hide that from her?

But worse, how could he tell her, and lose all of it?

Before he could start down that spiral he’d stumbled into a dozen times as they made their way back from the northern wastelands, there was a gentle touch of her hand on his far shoulder. He froze, daring to glance at her out of the corner of his eye. Corrin, apparently, took his stillness for invitation, draping both her arms across his shoulders, leaning against his side and burrowing her head against his shoulder, settling so her cheek rested on his collar and her crown was pressed lightly against his jaw.

“...What are you doing?” Leo ventured.

“Hugging you,” she mumbled.

“I don’t think that’s how hugs work,” Leo told her, considering he was still resting his lower arm on the window of Hati’s stall and she had rather awkwardly pinned everything from the elbow up against his ribs.

“That’s ‘cause you’re not hugging me back,” Corrin replied. “The problem here lies with you.”

“Excuse me?” Leo said, shifting towards her ever-so-slightly. “You’re suggesting the fault could _ever_ be with me?”

“You know what?” Corrin asked. “I might’ve told you that you were my best little brother, but you’re also the most pretentious.”

Leo let out the tiniest exhale, not truly a proper sigh, and shifted enough that he could finally return her embrace. He squeezed his eyes shut, nose in her hair, and wondered if there would ever come a day that he could bear to lose this. Then he wondered if that day was going to come whether he was ready for it or not.

And he made his decision.

“I’m your only little brother,” he whispered.

Leo could only ask himself if that lie would always taste so bitter.

 

_FIN_


End file.
